Old Faithful

by Thomas Vaughan Jones
(Liverpool UK)

He raised his head and wagged his tail,
he twitched a hairy paw.
His old eyes bid me welcome home
as I came through the door.
His nose was cracked and burning hot;
his coat was streaked with grey.
His body strained to stand once more,
and keep old age at bay.

My poor old dog is getting old,
I guess it's time to part.
I know I’ll really miss him.
it's going to break my heart

I bent to stroke his ancient head,
a teardrop filled my eye,
as in my mind once more we ran
beneath a summer sky.
We plied such great adventures.
We chased around the park,
and when I shouted out with joy,
he answered with his bark.

That bark has grown feeble,
my old pal's day is done.
But I can still remember
those warm days in the sun.

He loved without condition,
whatever Fate might send.
I was his loving master,
and he was my best friend.
He never caught that rabbit,
and cats were far too smart.
Of course, he never tried too hard,
he had a gentle heart

But now he’s heading homeward,
to his kennel in the sky.
I know I’ll really miss him.
Goodbye! Dear friend. Goodbye!

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